Recruiting Ianto Jones
by thewolfsaviour
Summary: Details the arrival of Ianto Jones to the Torchwood establishment and how he becomes a valued member of the team. How do his colleagues react to his arrival? Why was he chosen in particular? And what does he make of the delectable Captain Jack Harkness...
1. Chapter 1 New Beginnings

**Chapter One - New Beginnings**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned below. If I did, I would be submitting this to the BBC and not here. They are merely muses for my imagination. No defamation of character is intended and the incidents mentioned below do not necessarily reflect the views of the BBC/directors/actors involved. No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: My first attempt at a piece of fanfic of this kind. I am new to both Torchwood and fanfic, so please respect this in your critiques. Constructive criticism is welcomed, I want to improve. The story doesn't strictly follow the events that happen in Torchwood Series One or Series Two, consequentially there are no spoilers (to my knowledge). This explains how Ianto arrived at Torchwood and became a valued member of the team.**

"Team, I'd like you to meet Ianto. Ianto Jones."

After the last syllable of this barked declaration died away, the young Welshman, clean-shaven and dressed in a neat suit, knew this to be his cue to step forward. He was feeling just a little apprehensive as he entered into what he was later to refer to as The Hub, although now it was nameless, and about as unfriendly and unfeeling as a place could be. At first he felt like bottling out, slinking back into the shadows from which he had emerged. It was a distinctly unpleasant experience and although he tried to convince himself it was nothing more than first day fears, he couldn't help but feel as though he was being suffocated. The atmosphere was verging on being intolerable; there had been no mention of underground offices in the job description. The situation was doing extremely little to help his claustrophobia. Still, it would be rather rude, not to mention highly humiliating, of him to simply walk straight back out, like the coward he tried in vain not to be. Perhaps he should at least look around the place properly before reserving judgment. Straightening an already poker straight tie, Ianto bravely placed one foot in front of the other, edging his way to the narrow staircase that would lead him into the very heart of his new work place.

On first impressions, he was taken aback. There were so many gadgets, bordering upon too many, and peculiar objects that he did not understand, and somehow he knew that he would never truly comprehend what went on here. His eyes flickered around the room, for now he did not notice the other members of the team. Curiosity had captivated his soul and nothing whatsoever could draw his eyes away from the bizarre array of equipment that lay before him, except for a desire to see more, to take everything in, hardly stopping to inhale a needed breath of air. He saw something he recognised. Yes, computers, he could just about work one of those – but the technology here was beyond advanced, greater than any conception a mere mortal could have dreamed up.

That was impossible, surely? However, these computers and accessories were not for dealing with ordinary beings. He had been told so, by a confident, borderline arrogant American who liked to be referred to as 'The Captain'. Egotistic, Ianto thought, as he ran a tentative finger along the edge of the cold, aluminium banister, as he hovered at the top of the stairs. Sixteen steps…the descent that would lead nostalgically away from one life and into another. No, he couldn't think like that. Change was good; change had to be for the better. Anything had to be better than this. Ianto was a reticent man, who relied upon things staying the same to maintain his sanity, and consistency was his middle name. He could not abide upset or any disturbances to his uneventful life. It was mundane, it was routine – it was perfect.

Quite what this unit, deemed 'Torchwood' did, he had not the foggiest of a clue. But that was all right. He wasn't to know what they did or what purpose these strange instruments served to fill. He was here to make the coffee.

"Where is the kitchen?" Ianto croaked, nerves getting the better of him as he turned to face his boss, the man who had signed his letter of application. There was something odd about him…his eyes…the cold blue pools that filled you with relief, enveloped you with solace and bestowed you with fear in one same moment. Those eyes that quizzically followed his every movement and yet they seemed to remain intently fixed upon the same spot, not moving, not blinking. They captured him with such an intensity he was forced to look away, less his blush should reach his prominent cheekbones. It was unnerving, embarrassing. Was he being tested? A very faint sheen of perspiration crept across his brow; he refused to reach for his handkerchief and mop it. A sure sign of weakness, a certain indication of a lack of confidence. Ianto did not want to be ridiculed in front of a man who seemed to live and breathe confidence with every step that he took, ever vowel he articulated.

The Captain cleared his throat as Ianto did likewise, fidgeting once more with his cuffs, an old habit. As they say, old habits die young. If it was a test, it seemed he had passed, for the Captain gave a brief nod to himself and raised a hand, beckoning.

"This way," the elder man replied and turned swiftly on his heel. At least, Ianto mused as he dogged him, avoiding the scrutinising stares from the employees down below, he seemed to be older. It was hard to tell. The man had few if any wrinkles, nor did he have a single grey hair upon his head or blemish upon his skin. It seemed as though time had no effect upon Captain Harkness. But that was another impossibility. Ianto shook his head, putting this thought to one side. Ask no questions, quell your curiosity. That had played a large role in his application procedure. Was he prepared to be sworn to secrecy? Tell no one about what he heard; what he saw; what he learned. No exceptions. One breach of security and the consequences were dire, so he had been informed. The thought alone of what could happen to him frightened him deeply. Nevertheless, immediate agreement had been easy, for Ianto had no one to reveal his secrets to and the few people he could call friends would disbelieve what he had to say, dismiss it out of hand without reconsideration.

"You'll find everything you need here," Captain Harkness explained, pointing unnecessarily to the cups and spoons that were haphazardly arranged on a shelf above them. With a sudden intake of breath, Ianto knew that the moment he was alone he would have to sort them out. It was doing little for his sense of feng shui. Probably a load of nonsense, but something itched within him to push the red coffee cup back in line with the others. There was no need to ask just who owned such a disproportionately placed item. Out of line with the others, both in material and immaterial form.

Stop it, Ianto cursed himself, pressing his palms into his hips as tried his best to act nonchalant. Luckily for him, the Captain didn't appear to bat an eyelid. Just because there is a cup out of synchronisation with the others, doesn't give you the automatic right to link cause to effect. This cup could be completely unrelated to the man standing next to you. You have no evidence to assume that this mug is his and no right to think this solely upon the fact it appears…domineering.

"Is everything ok? Is that mug bothering you?" A hand outstretched almost immediately and nudged the cup back into place.

"Sorry?" Ianto flinched as though the words had carried a physical strength. Indeed, they had taken him aback. It was as though his mind was being read. This did alarm him. It was yet another attribute to add to the already mixed bag: no obvious signs of aging, peculiar eyes, the ability to perform telepathy without maintaining eye contact and an almost impeccable, tower-like strength, he seemed to think he could conquer the world and yet, Ianto had the distinct impression that this was not at all beyond his limitations. Despite his promptness in judging upon first impressions alone, even Ianto now had the feeling that there was more to this man than first met the eye.

Ianto prided himself upon his people skills. Whilst he remained as tight as a crocodile's jaw around a fish when it came to personal emotions, he could read other people's fears and troubles as easy as reading a book. He hit a snag though here. Ianto watched carefully as the Captain explained where he would find the coffee granules, hot water, milk, sugar…and everything else he might need. He gave nothing away, no sign of a personality behind the frank, commanding exterior. The absence of a wedding ring caused Ianto to ponder briefly if this was because no woman had ever felt comfortable enough in his presence to ever consider marriage. Or maybe he was homosexual. That would certainly explain a lot, there seemed to be testosterone abound bubbling through his colleague with an enforced vigour. There was also a tension in the atmosphere that Ianto couldn't quite place his finger on. Well, he supposed it might have something to do with the fact the 'new kid on the block' had just arrived. It was bound to cause a rift.

"Any questions?"

Ianto chewed his lip before obediently shaking his head. He knew right away that the question had been asked out of frank politeness, rather than general concern. He had already been told that he was to keep his curiosity on a tight rein. Still, that didn't prevent silent, desperate to be remedied, queries from pounding against the walls of his mind.

"Good. Listen," the Captain took a deep breath, "I have some paperwork to catch up on, so why don't you go and introduce yourself to the others?" His deep red lips portrayed a friendly smile, one filled with genuine warmth, that made Ianto feel as though he deserved to be there, and that someone, just someone, was pleased to see him. Getting this job had shocked him immeasurably (surely he wasn't the only applicant, and by know means was he the most qualified) and although it was an irregular placement, the pay was good and he had been told by many, many so called 'considerate' individuals that it was time he had a change of scenery.

Ianto nodded, licking his dry lips. He wondered offhandedly if this place was well ventilated or whether it was just him feeling the heat. It seemed odd that it was underground; then again, if the work here was extremely top secret he imagined it would have to be somewhat 'out of the way'.

His stare followed his colleagues back as it stepped smartly across the room and disappeared down another corridor that he had yet to explore. Presumably that was where the offices were kept. Resisting the urge to conduct his own investigation (he had been promised the guided tour later that morning) Ianto swept his gaze once more across his coffee making facilities. They were not of the sort he was accustomed to, but making the refreshments would certainly not be beyond his capabilities and he felt sure that after the first few attempts he would do just fine. Maybe he would get some practice in…he didn't feel up to making small talk just yet. Not that any of his brand new colleagues seemed to take the slightest bit interest in him now the official introductions had been made. This suited him down to the ground; Ianto Jones was not a man who revelled in idle, pointless gossip.

"Oh, there is just one more thing…"

Ianto jumped and furtively bit back an exclamation of shock. He could have sworn he had not heard the tell-tale indicative footsteps of the other man, nor did he feel the rush of air as the Captain hovered inches from behind him. Surely he must be warm in that thick, woollen coat of his? Ianto pondered. It suited him though; there was no doubt about that. It went part way to completing the image. Perhaps he liked to model himself upon that of a commanding officer in the Army. It would be an ideal profession for someone with Harkness' appearance, temperament and personality. Although…the braces…were they really necessary?

Ianto swallowed back a snort of amusement at this thought, which was hastily quelled as those blue circles transfixed their energies upon his own eyes. They delved into him once more and Ianto briefly panicked, hoping that his employer wouldn't do his mind reading trick again. What a fantastic start that would be, fired before he had poured his first cup of coffee…

"Yes?" he mumbled shyly.

Once again the stare pierced into him, a momentary, extended pause and then: "do you like pizza?"

"Pizza?" Ianto repeated uncertainly.

Captain Harkness nodded encouragingly.

"Umm, yeah, yeah I do."

"Great, you can order us lunch." He grinned. "Three large pepperoni pizzas and anything else you fancy."

In a lightning quick flash, Ianto instinctively caught the small, shiny object he was thrown – really, he might have been given some sort of warning. Supposing he had dropped it, what havoc that could have created. Upon further examination it turned out to be nothing more than an ordinary mobile phone. Conveniently under the heading 'Pizza' was the number for the local takeaway shop. There were quite a few others too, listed adjacent to this one – it seemed that whatever else happened here, a lot of ready meals were consumed. Were they too busy to be preoccupied with cooking? Or just too lazy… Were they looking for a chef? Ianto gulped, supposing they asked _him_ to cook?

"Do go and speak to the others," Harkness suddenly interrupted his trail of thought. He looked…anxious. "We've been looking forward to having you join us. They don't bite, you know…" he added as a casual afterthought, gazing down resignedly, "...well, not unless they have to."

Ianto blinked as the other man burst into a peal of hearty, enriched laughter, which was met by an answering scorn below.


	2. Chapter 2 Ianto's Discovery

**Disclaimer: As previous disclaimer. I do not own these characters, nor do I make any profit from this story. All characters etc remain the sole property of the BBC. **

**A/N: Chapter 2... I suppose the story is set prior to Series One, however there is one major omittance...yes, apologies to everyone but I've left Susie out of this. Owen and Toshiko are involved, however, as will Gwen be, at a later date. R&R, comments greatly appreciated so I know how this is being received.**

"So, this is Torchwood then?"

Ianto braced himself up against a nearby wall as he made his opening comment. It seemed like a good place to start, clarify that he was actually in the right building – it certainly hadn't been what he was expecting. He knew from the onset that the team were involved in some sort of security work but he had had visions of tall, vibrant office buildings, complete with state of the art facilities and where there was a hive of activity, so immense everyone could feel the undercurrent of tension that flowed through.

Definitely not this. His feeling of being trapped has lessened slightly now he was away from Captain Harkness, who seemed to exert an incredible hold over you. The man and woman working before him didn't seem too bothered by the Captain's presence or his behaviour. Maybe they had acclimatised. Maybe he actually liked them and didn't act all bulldoggish towards them. Ianto sighed inwardly. Why should he expect any form of preferential treatment? He was the office boy, no, not even that – he was the 'make coffee and order pizza guy'. Although at the moment, he had done neither. No one seemed to need refreshments of any sort and it was not time for lunch. What on earth was he supposed to do? Talk to the others, Harkness had suggested. Ianto shook his head in disbelief. Until now they hadn't even acknowledged his presence.

"That's right," the male half of the couple shot back. "Not exactly the Ritz, is it?" When he spoke he did not look in Ianto's direction. For all he knew he could have been addressing the freshly sharpened scalpel that he clutched, almost lovingly so, in his hands.

His female companion flashed Ianto a sympathetic smile. She had kind, endearing eyes, although the warmth of her smile didn't extend to them. Ianto knew then that he was right: he was an outsider. The other man he took to be some sort of medical doctor, judging by the white lab coat and the extraordinary collection of surgical instruments he was attending to. He wasn't exactly sure what the young woman, of Japanese origin, was supposed to be doing. There was a computerised image of Cardiff upon her laptop screen and she seemed to be tracking peaks and troughs of a "rift". A rift of what? Ah, crime presumably. After all, that was the field they operated within…wasn't it?

"I don't think Jack has introduced us. My name is Toshiko Sato, and this is Owen Harper."

"That's _Doctor _Owen Harper to you," the medic corrected, sounding slightly annoyed.

Toshiko let his acerbic remark simply wash over her. "Ignore him," she mouthed reassuringly to Ianto.

Ianto nodded and offered a hand; it was grasped tentatively by Toshiko. "Pleased to meet you, Ianto. I'm sure you'll soon settle in. If there's anything you need, just ask."

Once again, Ianto nodded. Ever since he had entered the estranged building he'd been desperate to find out exactly what Team Torchwood did with its days besides eating, drinking and generally doing very little of apparent use. Maybe the subtle approach would work but he would have to be careful, after all, he had been warned about asking questions and he didn't want to appear to be prying.

"So," he began casually, clearing his throat, "are you part of special branch then?"

"Could say that," Owen answered brusquely, gazing at his reflection in a recently polished surgical knife blade, and immediately combing his fingers through his hair, muttering incoherently under his breath. Ianto swallowed.

"But what do you do exactly?"

"This and that," was the short, sharp reply.

"Which is...?" Ianto didn't hold out much hope of receiving a helpful answer.

"Bit of everything."

I see, Ianto sighed, purposefully looking away nonchalantly as if the lack of detailed response hadn't bothered him in the least. In actual reality, he was craving for information. Common knowledge, that when you are denied something you want it even more strongly than before. What was this place? Who were these people? What did they do? What was their purpose?

Why was he even here? It didn't seem to be a particularly demanding role that he had been assigned, or were they totally incompetent of mixing hot water with coffee granules that they relied upon someone else to do it for them. Why was he here...so many interpretations for that remark, so many answers, most of them despairing. It wouldn't do to think like that now, after all...

"You're a bit overdressed aren't you?" Owen suddenly interrupted his throughts, speaking for the first time without being addressed. Moreover, he actually condescended to put down his tools and turned to face Ianto. Now that he could see him properly and not just his profile, crouched low over the equipment, Ianto realised that the medical man and he were of similar ages. Owen was youthful in appearance and yet he seemed to have an air of cynicism about him, as though he had seen things, done things that set him apart from all other juvenile males of his age. Like the Captain, he too bore the impression of having taken the world upon his shoulders. Even for a doctor, whose very profession dictates that he or she must learn to detract their emotions from their work, Owen's bedside manner seemed to leave a lot to be desired.

Slightly stung, Ianto stammered in reply: "Wh-what do you mean?"

Toshiko too paused in her detailed examination of the charts on the computer screen, and turned to watch them both, hands on hips. She was frowning.

"I mean, what's with the suit? You're a tea-boy."

Charming, Ianto thought miserably. But they say the truth hurts. Silently Ianto echoed a despondent thought around his mind, which remained in constant turmoil - I suppose I am nothing more than a glorified butler. Need you be so frank though?

"Owen," Toshiko snapped exasperatedly, coming at once to Ianto's defence although he felt as though he had done little to warrant such friendly support.

"No," he began aloud, feeling helpless and wishing he could disappear into the ground. "It's fine. I guess I am dressed…beyond my status…"

"Not at all, I think you look very smart," Toshiko complimented him, reaching out a hand and squeezing his shoulder.

The colour rose in Ianto's cheeks. "I just thought I'd make a good impression on my first day."

Toshiko gave him yet another encouraging smile and he returned it gratefully, although the last thing he felt like doing was smiling. In truth, the real reason why he had worn his suit was far too personal to explain to someone he had only just met. Besides, he expected Owen would probably find something to mock him about. He suspected that Owen's words were not borne out of malice, but that was just his normal behaviour. It would have been preferable though if he'd not been quite so blunt or blasé in his comment. The fact of the matter was Ianto used his suit as an extra skin. It was another layer to encase himself in and he had foolishly hoped it would give the impression of dignity and confidence. Confidence breeds success and although yes, he was just a tea-boy, he knew he couldn't have turned up wearing anything else. Peel away the outer layer and what were you left with? A shell of a man, insecure, uncertain, afraid…

Ianto hastily pushed aside these crowding thoughts and sought around for something to ask, a change of subject, anything. "Where is everyone?" he croaked feebly.

"Sorry?" Toshiko murmured as she leaned closer to her desk, presumably something had attracted her attention and it needed investigating.

"Tosh, are you wearing that perfume again or is my surgical spirit leaking," complained Owen, sneaking a sideways glance at his co-worker to gauge her reaction to his gibe. She did not rise to the bait; instead she simply rolled her eyes and continued working.

Ianto cleared his throat before he repeated his question for their benefit, this time both heard him. Toshiko and Owen exchanged bewildered glances, and it was Owen who answered on behalf of them both. "We're here."

Now it was Ianto's turn to look amazed. "There are only two of you?"

"Ye-es," said Owen slowly.

"This is it?" Ianto asked again, disbelief paramount in his tone of voice.

"Well unless you count the weevil in the basement, then, yes."

"I'm sorry…weevil?" Ianto knew he sounded as confused as he felt. "Isn't that some sort of…parasite?" he added, thinking of his science lessons at school.

"You could call it that. Only this one has a wicked temper and a face to match." Owen snapped his gaze back onto his work, thus dismissing the conversation.

Toshiko decided to take over from that point. "A weevil is a man-eating humanoid, most commonly found roaming the sewers of Cardiff. Normally they remain out of sight and keep themselves to themselves, but very occasionally they take it into their minds to go AWOL and so they venture to the surface and attack the residents."

"And you have one locked up in your cellar?" Ianto scoffed, doubtfully.

"It's for Owen. He studies it."

"I see…" Ianto turned away so that they wouldn't notice his desperate struggle to prevent himself from bursting into laughter. They had to be pulling his leg. Who ever heard of a 'man-eating humanoid'? What utter nonsense. Perhaps he ought to sneak down to the basement and take a look for himself, to see what they really had concealed there.

"You don't believe us, do you," came a quiet voice to the left of his side. Ianto bit his lip and looked down at Toshiko, who had crept closer to him when he had been under the impression she was preoccupied with her computer. She seemed hurt and for a wild moment Ianto wondered if she really had been telling the truth after all.

"I'm sorry," he replied, genuinely so. "But…everything you're telling me…it's nonsense, right? It's a wind-up, simply make believe."

"Why would we joke about something as serious as this?"

"Because…" Ianto struggled for a reply, subconsciously backing himself away from them all. "Because you're teasing me…I'm new…you're having your five minutes of fun."

"Ianto, no…" Toshiko fidgeted awkwardly with her pen, for want of a distraction. "I can assure you, it's true." There was a brief pause, before the proverbial final nail was driven into the coffin. What came next shocked Ianto to the very core, although his obstinate mind, always searching for the rational side of life, refused to accept it. "We fight aliens, Ianto."

"I'm sorry?!" he spluttered.

Owen folded his arms and spoke with a resigned air, as though this was a perfectly straightforward conversation which he'd much rather not be having. "Look, let me explain to you, once and for all. Basically, there is a space-time rift running straight through Cardiff. Aliens and other extra-terrestrial life forms come through the rift and generally cause havoc to the city. Our job is to minimise the damage caused and to hopefully rid Cardiff of the riff-raff. Happy?"

Ianto looked everything but. "Aliens…" muttered he sceptically, before raising his voice. "Aliens! Here, in Cardiff of all places?" His voice beheld a distinct tremor but still he continued incredulously: "I've never seen an alien!"

"Just goes to prove what an excellent job we're doing doesn't it," Owen replied, lifting an eyebrow in mock triumph.

Ianto pressed his hands to his brow, feeling a heavy sheen of perspiration gathering there. Perhaps he was going mad. No, _they_ were the mad ones. Absolutely crazy. But they seemed so sane and, well, _normal _that he couldn't help but for one tiny moment believe that there was indeed something beyond this world…

…and yet, a much larger, more insistent part of him refused under no circumstances to believe a word of this yarn he was being spun.

"No way, there are no such things as aliens!"

"Yes there are…" commanded a voice, seemingly from out of the blue, coolly so.

Jumping violently, Ianto turned around in the direction of the speaker and came face to face with Jack Harkness. "But…but…"

Slowly, Jack nodded. There was no implication of humour or any sign of ridicule in his tone of voice. He seemed deadly serious. Ianto suddenly felt very afraid, panicked as to what he had stumbled upon and wondering how on earth he could explain his immediate resignation.

Jack rested a surprisingly comforting hand upon his shoulder. "Running away will not lessen the fear."

Ianto drew breath sharply. "How did you…"

"Come on, can you honestly name me one person who would not be absolutely terrified at learning there are aliens roaming in their home town? It's perfectly natural."

"But the whole idea is absurd!"

"Why?" asked Jack simply, standing back to allow Ianto some personal space. His eyes bulged and he had dramatically turned white.

Jack continued: "why does something have to be automatically dismissed just because you personally have no evidence of it? We have proof of what we do and we know, first hand, of exactly what horrors drop through the rift. We can't make you believe us Ianto, but I can assure you, with every last breath inside my body, that we are telling the truth…" He faltered abruptly, noticing Ianto's pale complexion and realised that he'd gone too far, too soon. He would have to smoothe things over, and fast. Retcon seemed like the obvious choice...if a tad drastic...

"Look…" Jack started over, grateful for his sudden burst of impromptu inspiration. "Why don't you nip out and fetch us those pizzas I asked you to get? The fresh air will do you good. Take your time now."

Ianto was still reeling from everything that had been said; he barely felt the smooth coins being pressed into his palm and the concerned voice of Jack as he repeated the order to him and wrote the address of the takeaway shop onto a scrap of paper, which was subsequently tucked into Ianto's breast pocket. He did not register the worried expression upon Toshiko's face or the one of resignation upon Owen's, neither did he notice Jack ushering him out of the room and into the lift that would bring him back to the street level, and thus, back to normality.

As soon as he emerged, blinking in the startlingly bright sunshine – there were no windows, obviously, down in the Torchwood Hub and so there was a lack of natural light – Ianto began to feel his head clear. The wind that struck his cheeks revived a little energy into his body and went partway to quelling the peculiar sensation of fear in his stomach. It was fear of the unknown. They hadn't even explained what aliens looked like, how was he to know if he saw one? Supposing they masqueraded as humans or other seemingly ordinary, everyday objects? He could be looking at one right now…and he would be none the wiser.

Someone in a passing car beeped their horn without warning and caused him to yelp in abstract fright. Blushing, Ianto lowered his gaze as several bemused passers-by gave him questioning stares. At least now that he was out in the open and merging seemingly into normality, the terrifying revelations from Owen, Toshiko and Captain Harkness…Jack… didn't seem to have as strong an impact as before. With each step that Ianto took towards the high street he was becoming further and further away from Torchwood and the bewildering, bewitching secrets that it contained within.

_Three large pepperoni pizzas…and anything else you fancy…_

With folded arms and a face set in a deep frown, Captain Jack Harkness watched his newest recruit buttoning up his jacket and setting off, battling the seasonal gales, as he ventured off onto his task. If he allowed for one moment his emotions to infiltrate his mind at a time like this, he might very easily have sprinted after Ianto and insisted that he accompanied him to the pizza shop. Possibly even back again. It was odd, he didn't feel the same…apprehension…over the other two members of Torchwood. Perhaps it was because they understood what dangers they could face, they knew of the implications that being associated with Torchwood would bring. More importantly, Toshiko and Owen had willingly signed up to put their lives on the line. Each of them was well aware that every day could be their last…

Well, maybe there was an exception there, Jack thought dryly as he continued to watch Ianto on the CCTV cameras.

But Ianto…dear, gentle, naïve Ianto…He had applied to be merely a general support man, running around after them, whilst they ran around after the rest of the city. Clearing up the mess caused by the aliens and other rift activity left them bereft of incentive to tidy up after themselves in the Torchwood Hub. That was where Ianto came in, to serve them coffee and tea, to order their meals, to tidy around them and to generally be there, in the background, ever reliable and faithful but always remaining in the dark to what really went on under his very nose.

Damn it, Jack exclaimed angrily to himself, drawing his eyes away from a possibly amusing scene of Ianto having difficulty in dissuading a stray dog from following his every move in the hope of attention or food. Damn it all. Ianto wasn't supposed to know what went on at Torchwood. When he submitted his application he had absolutely no idea of what he was signing himself to. That alone wasn't fair, they had lied to him. He wasn't supposed to know about the rift, the presence of aliens or the possibility of danger, death and destruction that followed in the wake of everything the gang did. Now what was he to do? Ianto was the perfect man for the job and yet, after the unexpected turn of events, Jack knew he could not blame Ianto for wanting to leave. How easily a rut had been struck.

But Jack knew exatly who to blame for this unwarranted downfall. Oh yes.

"Toshiko, Owen. My office." And then, for good measure, "now!"


End file.
